


Video games

by Buttercup_ghost



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aborted Undertale Genocide Run, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Attempted Undertale Genocide Run, Bullying, Child Murder, Emotional Baggage, Fluff and Angst, Games, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Misgendering, Non-Binary Chara, Non-Binary Frisk, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Pokemon - Freeform, Soft Chara, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, asriel being adorable, eventually, shhh let me get to it, video games - Freeform, which is. Every chara I write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:12:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10986966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttercup_ghost/pseuds/Buttercup_ghost
Summary: All their life they have heardAre you a boy or a girl?All their life they've replied withNeither





	1. Chapter 1

_Are you a boy or a girl?_

You, logically, knew that professor oak would ask that. Logically, because he's a part of a game, and games always go as they're programmed to. You've played this game before. Everyone has. You don't know what version of it this is—doesn't matter, it's all the same to you—but you know that he always says this. Sitting there, or standing, you suppose, smiling at you, waiting for your answer—it feels like you're being mocked.

_Are you a boy or a girl?_

You want to spit at the screen, scream and kick it and _bash that damn professors head in._ You want to cry. You don't cry–you can't, can't be weak like that, even though you logically knew that the dreemurrs wouldn't judge, you still felt that nausea rising up your gut, the need to keep your false pride intact. Your smile is splitting, shaking at the corners, paper thin, but as usual asriel doesn't notice. He's not very good at reading people, you find out, and for some reason that makes you feel guilty. You're not the greatest person—even when someone can read you, look past your false insults and bravo, you're sharp, and hard to bear—like a well worn rock digging into someone's foot.

_Are you a boy or a girl?_

The screen is still flickering, question staring you in the face. Unconsciously your hand tightens around the controller, making it shake. Asriel looks over to you, sheepishly—that's funny, you thought he was a goat—smiling nervously.

“I liked the design better.”

You're confused, at first, until you see what's on his screen, the flickering message of

_Are you a boy or a girl?_

Vanishing out of sight.

“You… choose girl? Isn't that… dishonest, or something?”

His nose scrunches up, as if he's on a difficult question for some test he knows he has the answers too but doesn't know how to put it.

“Hm…. I don't think so. I mean, they ask that so they can make the character you play as either a boy or a girl, right? So.. you're not saying you're this, but they are.. I guess? Like, you're not really the person you play as, they're in there, and you're out here. Hm…. but I don't think that's it's very nice of the game to make me choose for them… isn't that unfair to them? What if they aren't even a boy or girl? What if i get it wrong?”

He looks so aghast at the idea—you can even see him tearing up—that it makes you go still. How is someone so… _good_ , possible? You want to protect this.

After staring wide eyed for a moment, you chuckled, smiling—there was no tears gathering in your eyes, thank you very much—before laughing out loud.

“You're *snrk* such a dweeb asriel–!”

“Hey!”

“They're just video game characters, you don't have to get so deep into it asriel!”

He huffs lightly, but then smiles, and you smile with him, tenderly.

“Never change, you adorable idiot you.”

You swear, not for the first time—you'll protect this fluffy boy with your life.

You beat asriel, winning the game, and laugh lightly as he pouts, gloating just a bit while falling back onto his lap, head resting gently there.

His hand in yours feels _warm_ and _soft_ and  _safe_.

 

(You feel buttercups burning in your lungs, and your soul tearing through your chest cavity

You feel asriels paws, they still feel the same, _warm_ and _soft_ and _safe_ , all the things you never were, all the things you never had

You feel picking up your body—you weren't lying about loving those flowers

You feel him resisting fighting back, you feel the struggle, you feel the _gunshots--_

You remember the question,

_Are you a boy or a girl?_

You remember how when the kids on the monkey bars laughed when you said _neither_ , remember them shoving you into the ground, the mud on your face. You remember your hands being bloodied from fighting back, remember your ‘ _parents_ ’ punishment when they learned of what you've done. You remember a past full of bruises and scars and _no, you cannot, you cannot be that._

You remember when asriel first asked you that, the fear you felt, the flinch after the word _neither_ was out of your lips, thinking he'd react like the others.

You remember his eyes lighting up instead, _a thats so cool!!_ coming from him, remember how he still took your hand in his paw— _warm soft safe—_

You remember how you promised to protect him.

You realized you've failed.

Seems like you've lost this game.

~~Except, this was never a game to you, and your brother is dead.)~~

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Are you a boy or a girl?_

The question from their mouth feels wrong, like someone trying to repeat something they've been told to—there's a lingering fear in their voice, and you squint at the kid. You're not sure how old they are—maybe a year younger than you? Well, you guess a year younger from how old you were when you… died, considering you don't know how much time has past, but still. They're shaking, just a bit, voice horses from what you guess was disuse, hands bloodied—you're not sure if it's their blood, or someone else's, and you're not sure you care to find out—clutching onto a stick, beaten a bit, warn. It's bark is worse than it's bite.

“What about you kid, what are you?”

You spoke, defecting the question. They seemed flustered at this, and even worried, even as their face hardly changed. They were like you, in a way, except they used a blank one to mask themselves, instead of a smile. If you didn't know what signs to look for in someone's facade, you wouldn't have really noticed, the only thing most people would notice was the soft fidgeting with their hands—but you could tell, almost _feel_ that their was anxiety radiating off in waves.

“I, I'm uh, neither.”

_Neither_.

“Me too.”

“H-Huh?”

“I'm neither too.”

 

  
“ _What are you doing?!_ ”

You shrieked at the trembling child. A pile of dust later at their feet, a now dirtied stick in their hands.

“Th-they attacked me!”

“They attacked you?! _They attacked you?!”_

_They just killed a monster._

“Y-yes! Y-you said they were _better_ than humans, chara! You _lied!_  I _died!!_  They– they _murdered_ _me!"_

They're mad, now, defending themselves with dagger shaped words, landing them right into your heart.

“N-no, they probably didn't mean to frisk, you’re overreacting. Y-you have to be overreacting.”

You're trembling as you remember seeing their lifeless body, phantom pains echoing on your ghostly rib cage. You remember the life draining from their eyes. But you also remember days spent in the ruins, childhood laugher following you as asriel ran happily, going out with you to hunt for bugs, stopping to make light hearted conversations with the various monsters of the ruins

Frisk, too, is trembling, they can't believe what they’re hearing, their voice is careful, tense, shaking, hardly contained frustration bubbling just below the surface, agasted.

“Over. Reacting. Overreacting. Me. _I'm_ overreacting. Y-you're. You're just like _them!_ You don't care about me at all! I'm just a, a pet project to you! A _game!_ News flash chara; _they forgot about you.”_

“They f-forgot about me.”

Your voice is shaking—why is your voice shaking? You laugh, just a bit, probably hysterical as frisks eyes widened, processing what they said.

“I'm sorry.”

“They, they th-threw me away.”

You're laughing is definitely hysterical now, face pulled in a tight smile, sharp like a knife as your hands go to your chest.

“Ch-chara, no, I didn't mean—”

“They– oh god they– _they killed you!_  H- _he_ killed you! M-my dad, my dad _killed us.”_

Your smile is gone, you're no longer laughing, instead just staring in numb, dull horror, hands clawing softly at your shirt, as if to tear out your head to stop feeling.

“Im, im so sorry chara.”

“we, if we don't fight back, we will die again and again, won't we?”

You're looking up, smiling shakily, eye brows draw, as if begging them to tell you differently. It's pathetic, really, and you wonder what _happened_ to you, but you already know.

They did—they all did. Humans and monsters and everyone else happened, and broke you.

“....I’m sorry.”

And  
You're mad.

You're mad you're mad you're mad _you're so fucking mad!_ You don't even know what, who, you're mad at, you're not sure it matters, the only thing that matter is that you're _mad_.

“Stop saying that! Stop saying you're _sorry!_ They— they're _not supposed to be like this!_ D-dads supposed to be a gentle giant, h-he should be crushing weeds n-not skulls! Mom supposed to b-be right around the corner, l-laughing gently at his humming! Sh-she _hates him!_  He _killed her children!_  She replaced me? Sh-she _replaced_ me! Th-this is my fault isn't it? Isn't it?! If it- if it wasn't for that _stupid plan–_ ”

You're shaking again, anger draining, leaving you exhausted as frisk cuts in

“No. no no, this _isn't_ your fault chara. We're both the same, aren't we? Both afraid of being hurt again. S-so, chara, let's try a different path? I'll protect you, so _please–_ I'm tired of being hurt, seeing you be hurt– let's try things my way.”

“...ok. Ok. I guess that means we're partners, huh?”

You laugh a bit at the end, lightening the mood, and they send you a hesitant smile.

“Now and forever.”

_Nothing can hurt you if everything is dust_

 

 

“Chara! _Chara!_ Chara _please!_ I was _wrong! Stop this! Y_ ou're– you're hurting yourself!”

They're desperate sounding, pulling you away in this freeze framed world. A part of their powers, you suppose, not that it matters to you how they “paused”.

“Is this a _game_  to you frisk?”

Your voice is monotoned, yet still vicious– like a dull knife ripping through your skin.

“Wh-what?”

You turn to look at them, black faced, before your mouth curled up into a sinister smile.

“Is that all this is? A game? You said you would protect me—but you just wanted to see what would happen, isn't that right?”

They stumble back from you, staring in shock before replying in a all but yell, as if implying they didn't care for you was a fate worse than repeating those hundreds of deaths that damned skeleton put you through.

“No! If we gain enough power- we'll be ok! We can destroy all in our way and be safe together.”

“is that why?”

You ask, voice hollow, before your eyes soften under their pleading gaze. You sighed, looking away, murmuring.

“Can all I ever be a demon, hunting for power, desperately trying to seek power, to destroy it all?”

They step bit closer to you, eyes narrowing on the knife in your hands.

“You're shaking.”

You look back towards the frozen flower, eyes wide in terror, pleading. You wish you could just kill your weakness.

“He's my brother. I can't kill him.”

Frisks voice is gentle as they lay their hands on your shoulder, a whisper that almost sounds like regret.

“He's a flower. You have to, unless….”

“Unless?”

They look away.

“Unless you want us to die again, struggling.”

“.....well, what do you think I should do, frisk? What could I _possibly_ do? I'm begging here, frisk, _tell me_. Why am I even _here?_ I should be **dead** , still. I _destroyed_ my _family_. I'm still doing it, even now. So tell me, partner, what, pay tell, should I do?”

You would be angry, if you weren't so numb.

They speak up though, eyes wavering before looking up at you, now set, solid, determined.

“I– I think. we should try and save him.”

“..what?”

“I'm going to.. I'm going to save you both.”

 

 

  
[Sometimes, when frisk sleeps you can see their memories, a _are you a boy or a girl?_  echoing in your ears. You think they can see yours too.

Sometimes, you see scars and bruises similar to your own, you see chunks of flesh and blood-- sometimes, you wonder what, exactly, has frisk _done?_

But you know them, you're a _part_ of them now, soul radiating off their own—and you think you trust them, against all your senses telling you otherwise.

You remember a lv filled, dust coated them—both of you—you remember how they stopped, for you.

As their head nuzzles into your own—you're still not used to it, really, but you find you don't mind feeling their warmth—you think, you think,

Yeah, you trust them.

You still remember their timid _neither_ , after all.

They'll won this game.

~~But it's more than a game, it's your life, and this time you're happy about that.]~~

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“You know, I'm glad you saved me.”

The screen is flickering, illuminating as you set up the game—still the classic Pokémon—introductions rolling, almost to the age old question.

_Are you a boy or a girl?_

You frown, just a bit, before turning to look at asriel.

“Yeah?”

You inquire, bland curiosity coating your voice.

“Mm. I… didn't want to come back at first. Sometimes I still don't, but… it's really, really, nice to see you.”

You smile, just a bit, before your frown comes back, eyes drifting to the screen still flickering, as you try to appear disinterested in what asriel is saying, looking as if you were thinking hard about what to put, when really, your lungs didn't seem to constrict as much as they used to with this.

“You know, it wasn't your fault asriel.”

He flinches—ah, so you got it right, he was blaming himself—before smiling sadly, then looking up, almost ruefully, almost determined.

“Then it's not your fault, either.”

You want to argue, to say something against it, but instead you just sigh. Lately, you're not sure if he's wrong. It's a weird feeling.

“Maybe. We met frisk, because of it, after all.”

It's true; you did, and apart of you think that makes it all worth it, the _burning_ and _dust_ and _blood_ , but then sometimes you wake up from nightmares, deathly quiet as you sweat, and all you feel is _pain_.

Frisk always senses it, somehow, though, and they come to whisper sweet assurances just like you used to for them.

As if being summoned, frisk joins into the conversation; peeking into the room smiling a bit, before making a scowl of distaste.

“Pokémon? Why this old game? Sure, it's a classic, but there's new games out there.”

You almost feel sad at this, yet happy too.

“I suppose you're right, this is the time of ‘new beginnings’ and stuff.”

You smirk as their face goes red at the reminder of their big cheesy speech they put on when you first came back, the standard neutral expression cracking some—that's been happening more, you note, around asriel; it's a big step, they're only emotive around people they trust, you've noted, the contrast of how they act around you alone now and how they acted how you first met almost startling—before they change the subject.

“W-well, anyways, there's a new game out I think we should play…”

Their Voice fades out as you think. You did mean it as a joke, but there was some truth to it too.

It _was_ a new beginning.

{Turns out the game frisk wanted to play had a non-binary lead, something that was unheard of before, and when you start up the game there's no _are you a boy or a girl_ flickering to met you, just the question of a name.

Asriel and frisk snicker as they put in your name, and proceed to make jokes— _the true name!_ frisk chimes in—much to your annoyance. Still, though, you're smiling, commenting along freely, words that you often stuffed down flowing without a thought.

You don't feel the need to cross out your words anymore, or end at a spot that doesn't quite feel finished, between frisk and asriel, playing this game.

You feel like you can be _yourself_. You never thought there even was a you to be, before.

Your smile isn't harsh as you laugh along with frisk and asriel.

Yeah, _new beginning_ sounded nice.}

 

 

 


End file.
